Father stands before the congregation after I'm done playing the organ, his noble features haloed by the glow of the sun through the high window behind him with his golden hair framing his scar on his jaw and the light making his glasses glint. He smiles.
"Please thank m'lovely daughter Ibara for the wonderful accompaniment t'day." his warm Scottish brogue washes over them like rain. It's normal for Father to use that warmth to guide others to the light.
The applause makes heat wash over my face. I cannot accept praise.
His sermon is full of compassion, his voice rising and falling like waves and gentle as a lamb. He never has a bad word to speak of anyone. Never raises his voice much other than singing hymns or brief moments of fearful anger.
But the contents of it are more on the nature of sacrifice, "What does it mean to sacrifice? What does it mean in our world?"
"The Lord had said that to follow him we should sacrifice all our possessions and even our families, but t'me that's a cruel thing. The best thing to do is lead by example. For the son of god had spoken words of comfort and morality."
"This book we follow is of a time where our faith was tested by those who believed differently, and that martyrdom was commonplace..."
Father continues passionate as ever, his brand of Christianity is to lead by example and not to tie it to a book written in the past too much. The framework is rather similar to other divisions of the faith itself.
"Our Lord had told us to love our neighbor and to hate the sin and love the sinner, these various authors of th' Gospel had different views." He continues with his tone rising in a rousing thunder of a voice. The congregation going along with it.
The soaring height of the ceiling catches the voices of them as they echo and dance through the room. Of course most of them are families in the area. Not one of them willingly came to church until my father's passion ignited a revival.
After the service a huddle of little old ladies shuffle up to me, "Good playing today, Ibara." one of them, Eiko, says with a happy smile.
"Thank you, Miss Eiko." I bow my head a little, "Honestly I was a little worried considering what was happening outside of church."
"It's that boyfriend of yours, isn't it?" Toki snaps, "He should be here in church! Not out there with that fool mother of his!"
"Toki..." Miss Miu sighs, "Don't mind her, dear. Just-"
"If you ask me, you're too good for him!" Toki continues, steam coming out of her nose, "He doesn't believe in god, he's shaky, and he always has that far-off look in his eyes. If you ask me you're in for a world of hurt."
I sigh, "I'll take your thoughts into consideration, Miss Toki."
"I'd pray on it if I were you." Miss Eiko pats my shoulder, "God knows the answers we don't."
Yet sometimes God makes us into monsters. After service the older ladies and men break out the dishes and set them on tables. The band sticks around to play some songs, and everything was together.
The vicious staccato of boxing gloved punches echoes across the way from the church and as the potluck continues, Father comes by with a couple of plates piled high with food.
He's always so overzealous, even when it comes to small kindnesses. He smiles as he passes by the other congregants.
"Excuse me, pardon me, hello." he greets and moves past them, "Bless you, God bless, thank you very much."
He stops in front of me.
"Take these to Mrs. Kaenshita an' Renaru f'me. Tell them I expect nothing from them in return." he smiles and hands them over with a wink, "Don't take too long, Ibara."
My cheeks burn a little, "F-father... Renaru and I aren't there yet. And won't be for a while." I hiss.
"Aye, aye. Just be careful." his eyes glint with an odd red color, "Be very careful." he briefly switches to German and then turns and walks off to offer pleasantries to the other guests to maybe convince them to come to our church more often.
I take the plates and wander off towards Renaru's house. It's a smaller place and some of it is older than everywhere else in the neighborhood. The punches get louder and louder, and I hear.
"Good! That's the way! Keep going!" Mrs. Kaenshita's voice echoes out towards me, the heat of the garage is high because of both of their quirks working in concert. I see them in a makeshift boxing ring. Renaru's hair billows behind him in a long ponytail and he ducks and weaves through his mother's mitt strikes. She's smiling confidently. Countering with some strikes and hammering them home with something called a 'One-Two punch.'
She pushes him back with some more and more until she catches sight of me, "Oop! Whoa there, hoss! Let's stop."
"Not 'til I'm cryin', Mom!" he snaps happily.
She places a mitt on his head almost unimpressed, "Stop it, Renaru. You got that girl of yours."
Renaru snaps up, "Eeep! Ibara's here?!" he whirls and catches sight of me holding the two plates of food.
"Hello?" I pipe up and they both stop. Mrs. Kaenshita looks at me and leans against the ropes.
"Hey there, Ibara. C'mon in." she says and I do so, "So what's that you got?"
"Oh, this is just from the potluck at church today. Father made you both plates." I explain and Renaru perks up.
"Really?! That's nice of 'im!" he exclaims taking off his gloves and hand wraps. What I see on his face sets my vines to writhe. A black eye forces his right eye mostly closed.
"What is that?" I can't help but growl.
"Oh that's from that Higurama brat." Mrs. Kaenshita huffs, "They got into a scrap and Renaru won."
"Mom! Ibara doesn't like hearing about those!" he snaps with a viciousness that sends a little ember through the air, "But that's all it was. A fight."
"Well it's good that you won." I state, "But please don't do that in the future."
Renaru gets his plate and chows down, their quirks both require a lot of food to keep fueling their flames. He smiles and gets down off the ring to hug me. He's smaller and warmer than me.
He fits so well in my arms.
"Thanks for the food, Ibara..." he sighs happily, "Maybe... I can see you later?"
"Yes. I'm not doing much, unless my father... well..." I look away and back towards the church.
"Okay!" he exclaims and stands taller to kiss me on the cheek. I allow him because the shuddery warmth is better than anything else.
But the fact that Father got passionate today tips me off to something else. He's usually more soft-spoken. Something's wrong.
Father helps with the cleanup but there's something off about him. His expression is focused and almost angry looking. He's cleaning almost like he hates every bit of grime.
He looks back up at me, "Ibara. Did they take them?"
"Yes, father." I answer.
"Good. Now get inside." he smiles but it's strained. Every motion is stiff and there's the slight scent of dogwood in the air. A slight crackle of wood and there's also just the quiet rage in my father's motions.
"Father, are you still thinking of Mother?" I ask.
"No." he snarls, "Jus'... Please get inside, dear." getting inside the house was never easier in my life. Something had made Father angry. Which meant that I needed to get to my room.
When I get there my plants are there. Absalom my Swedish Ivy, Jericho my little Cactus, and finally Renaru my little hardy Succulent. Of course naming one of my plants after my boyfriend makes sense to me. I water Absalom and check on Jericho and Renaru (the plant). They're fine. My room is cozy enough with a nice bed and my lamp showing warm light through the window.
I sit at my desk, taking notes on something for school. All I can think of is that Father is doing something because he's angry. It never ends well. Father's... an odd man. The fact that he just goes out in the night like that frightens me. But I do have something planned for tonight. I'm going to see Renaru. I open the window and climb out, making sure Father wasn't around to see me leave.
All I want is to see my love, and he's sitting under Mother's tree in the backyard with his flaming hair throwing soft light around himself almost like those saint's halos in the old illuminated pages Father used to have me look at. He smiles when he sees me. I love him. I love his smile and the way his flames dance. I love every time he grabs my hand almost like he's going to fall. I love how he bobs and toddles along with that happy determination. I love how he keeps trying. How he fights so hard to get what he wants. I just want to know something, Lord, if you can hear me...
Why did you give him to me?
His head lies in my lap and I run my fingers through his soft as silk hair, embers wheeling in the air as I do so. His red-orange eyes glimmer up at me and a smile lights up his face. I don't deserve him, clearly. He deserves someone who can give him the world. Who can be his rock and his protector. Because he's so small, he's so shaky. It's like at any moment he'll fall apart.
And these hands... I look down at my hands. They'll break him. Dash him to pieces. I don't want that, Lord. Please break us apart. Please for his own safety keep him from me.
"Ibara?" his warm crackling voice breaks me out of communion with you Lord, forgive him.
"Yes?" my gaze meets his and he looks up at the sun through the leaves.
"Do you ever think about marriage?" he waits almost expectantly. Like I have the answer.
"Sometimes." my gaze tears away from him, "I would like to get married." my cheeks heat up.
"Oh thank goodness." he answers and sits up, grabbing my all-too strong hands with his too-small shaky ones, "Then... when we graduate..."
He squeezes them, "Let's get married!" he grins and it's like he's about to burst into a happy little tangent which he does (thank you, lord.), "We can have your dad officiate, a lot of presents and cake, and... and then I can get us a house and-" he's rambling again.
"Darling..."
"And then we can have all we wanted and-"
"Darling..." I force out again.
"We'll never be apart again." he finishes and there's a moment where it's just the wind, and it settles between us.
"Are you okay?" I start. He blurts out the next bit so loudly and so intensely that I can almost see the smoke coming out of his ears.
"School sucks without you, Ibara! I don't feel like a freak around you. I love being around you and you always know what to say and I... I feel..." he closes his eyes and forces it out.
"I feel happy!" he starts, "I love you so much it hurts, I love you to the moon- no, the sun and back! I... I wanna walk with you, not behind you." his tears roll down his cheeks.
"I want to make you happy, I want to say 'fuck faith, fuck being unequally yoked, I love you!' so there!" he surges forward...
And something ignites on my lips. A soft, warm, and passionate flame. I don't know what to do. I don't hear your voice. I just hear my own heart.
And I heed it.
I close my eyes and take that flame. I let it catch. This... this must be what my father felt when he kissed my mother. This must be what I always wanted.
This must be love.
I almost hungrily lean into the kiss. Behind us... there's the noise of crackling. Not of fire. Wood? Looming over the two of us just over Mother's tree is-
"Ibara!" Renaru shoves me out of the way and Father crashes in with a, "Away with you, Sinner! Get your dirty hands off my daughter!" in German. His eyes are bright red and his arms are covered in his vines.
He towers over Renaru and he's absolutely shaking as he looms and growls. But his flames rally ever brighter. The fury of my father turns him into a bowed creature of dogwood vines that seem to have a mind of their own.
"Father, no!" I yell and he swings around to look at me, "Renaru was just kissing me. It's not sinful at all!"
There's just the crackle of wood and a grunt or a growl? Not really sure and I can never be too sure with him. He chuffs softly and skulks away with his eyes on somewhere I couldn't see, mumbling something under his breath.
"Achtung... achtung..."
Renaru watches with pinpricked red-orange eyes and his hair is sputtering in fear as my 'father' leaves us be. I slip my hand into his.
"Is... is that normal?" he asks, "Like... is he some kinda werewolf?"
"You're oddly accepting of this." I blurt out.
"Well... I mean when you can shoot fire outta your body an' all you kinda get- no, no I'm not." he lets go of my hand and looks up at me full of fear and doubt. Of course much like Thomas and Christ he doesn't believe that I'm nothing like my father.
"I mean, is there a chance you can... you know? Do that too?" Oh sweet Lord please don't be answering the prayer I think you are.
"Renaru, out of all my family none of my cousins have inherited it. I swear I would've had it already." I step forwards, "Besides, I would've already transformed into a bowed monster."
He steps forward, "Just... promise me you won't do that."
"Touch my side and my hands, Renaru. And see it as true." I say, spreading my arms a little, "In other words please believe me, my love." He throws his arms around me and pulls himself into my embrace.
"Ibara, I'll trust you." he hisses into my ear, kissing me fiercely on the cheek and hustling away from me going back to his house. I look down at my hands and close them into fists.
What if I'm wrong? What if I did inherit Father's other quirk? I'll have to pray on it.